Title:  Push Me 
Author:  Chibi, that’s me
Summary:  There’s six more sacrifices that are standing right behind you.  You can already hear one of them screaming your name, running in to save you.
Pairings:  Main character/Investigation Team (yep, every single one of them), mentions of Kanji/Naoto, Chie/Yukiko, and there’s an extra pairing at the end.
Warnings:  AU(?), major spoilers to the true ending, yaoi, het, hints of yuri, lots of angst, lots of sex, death, bastard!main character(?)
Notes:  Prompt at badbadbathhouse way back in the day where the main character is actually the killer.  This fic is actually in eight different parts, but rather than post each part separately (since some aren’t very long) I’m just treating it all as one part.  The only other Persona 4 fic I’ve written that I like, so I’m posting it here.  
Words:  4618

March 20th, 2012 

Yosuke Hanamura

It takes a minute for the information to process through his head.  He doesn’t speak.  He stares at you, eyes wide and wet with tears that he’s trying not to shed.  “Y-you can’t be,” he whispers, finally finding his voice, “There’s no way…”  You can feel the betrayal dripping from his words when he speaks to you, “You… you killed…” And you know what’s coming, you can already hear it before he screams it at you, “How could you!  You’ve hurt so many people, and you killed Saki-senpai!”  

You’ve finally figured out – after nearly a year – why he obsesses after a girl who so viciously hated him.  Yosuke Hanamura needs to cling to her, needs to have his sob story to fit in with the others.  His pathetic “I’m bored with this town” shadow doesn’t compare to the others – even the fucking bear outshines him – so he needs to scream her name, his “precious” Saki-senpai.  

He keeps asking for an explanation, “Why” this and “Why” that.  You smirk and ask if he really wants to hear it because you remember how he blew up in Namatame’s room.  That makes him stop and he glares, he’s angry and his fists are clenched and you know he wants to punch you and the thought turns you on a bit too much.  He settles for slamming you against the wall outside the bathroom at Junes; where you two have decided to talk one last time before you leave Inaba.  His hands are clenched around the collar of your shirt, “I should kill you,” he whispers, “Make you pay for what you’ve done.”  The feeling of betrayal is much stronger now, you can see it in his eyes.  He’s remembering those months with you and reality is starting to settle into the pit of his stomach.  

You are the killer that they have been seeking all along.

He’s wondering if any of this means anything to you, if “he” means anything to you.  He’s remembering the shared times together away from the group, how many times you two have met in this very spot at Junes for a moment “just a moment” he would whisper, then you’d smile and pull him into the bathroom, his hands clutched against you school jacket as you slid your hand inside of his pants.  You smirk and whisper to him that you two can go at it one more time the way you use to, him arching into your touch, eyes squeezed shut and legs shaking as you give him the quick release he always begged beautifully for.  He glares at you, his eyes hard, “Fuck off,” he whispers, but his voice is small and you know that it will only take a few more words to get his pants off.  

You remind him that this is your last day together; there’s going to be a fight and either you will die – which is highly unlikely; you’re allowed to be smug – or the fog will cover everything.  You tell him that all you want is one more time, just one more, and you tell him the words he needs to hear.

“I love you.”

You can’t quite decide if you mean it but it doesn’t matter at the moment.  All that matters is the sob that leaves his lips as he crumbles against you.  You wrap your arms around him and hold him the way a lover should before you guide him into the bathroom, letting the door swing closed behind you.



Chie Satonaka

She isn’t really your type, to be honest, but it impresses you how much she holds the team together.  She doesn’t realize it, of course, but she’s got this knack of lightening the mood or discovering some clue that no one else noticed while ungracefully stuffing steak in her mouth.  

Its easy for you to get close to her.  She isn’t use to the flirting because she hangs out with that Amagi girl; the girl that everyone is supposed to want while Chie Satonaka fades in the background as her “prince.”  Its easy to see how jealous she is, how she wants the attention Amagi gets, silently hating her for it while being so madly in love with her that she’s ready to threaten anyone who dares to hurt her princess.  

The dominatrix shadow certainly wasn’t necessary, but you give her points for creativity.  

She‘s destined to watch Amagi from a distance because she‘s the tomboy that no one sees as a love interest – except that basketball kid whose name you’ve forgotten after you had him pressed against the lockers months ago, lips crushed together, basketball shorts loose around his ankles.  So when you show an interest in her she’s melting in the palm of your hand in seconds.  She’s in your bedroom while your uncle is working, your cousin watching that Junes commercial for the 7 hundredth time.  You admit to yourself that despite her plain appearance she does have quite the body, smooth legs and breasts that fit rather nicely in your hands.  She squirms against your blankets, blushing and stuttering, “Whoa whoa wait,” but you know she doesn’t mean it.  You like the way her legs tighten around your waist when you fuck her and you have to tell her to keep quiet, Nanako-chan is downstairs after all.  

Towards the end of March she’s reading books about becoming a police officer.  She wants to make you proud, wants to be strong and while she still wants to protect her princess she loves you and is ready to move on.   

You smile at her and use this moment to whisper in her ear, “I’m the killer.”     



Yukiko Amagi

You like it when she keeps the kimono on.  

You’re both standing in an empty hallway of the Amagi Inn, your hands sliding over the kimono and over her breasts.  You’re not too surprised that she likes it rough, she likes to be broken and abused to ruin her perfect image.  You still remember the amount of cleavage she revealed on the Midnight Channel and while it surprised the others – poor Satonaka’s face – it didn’t surprise you.  Perfect girls usually have a secret or two and Yukiko Amagi is no exception.

You loosen the kimono, start whispering the things you want to do to her and she loves it, scratches your back hard enough for it to sting.  You’re leaving Inaba and she will never feel this again, she will continue to work at this inn and be the town’s beautiful Amagi-san.  You consider asking her to join you because she would say yes in a heartbeat, dying for an adventure, for a change in her mundane lifestyle.  Despite her decision to stay in Inaba you can see it in her eyes – she had joked about running away with you earlier but you know for a fact that she wasn’t really joking.  

But she honestly isn’t very fun anymore.  

The rough sex is getting dull, her need to be destroyed is boring.  So you take her into one of the empty rooms for one last goodbye.  She’s crying as you thrust inside of her, her kimono open and hanging off her shoulders.  She doesn’t want you to go, she needs you and you tell her to be strong, to move on…

… to hate you because in reality you never really cared.  

Her eyes widen at that last part and she freezes against you, shaking her head, “What are you talking about,” but you know that deep down she understands what you mean.  It’s too much of a coincidence that Saki-senpai died so soon after your arrival, too much of a coincidence that you knew to stick your hand inside the TV.

She wants you to stop but you keep moving, “I thought you liked it this way,” you say to her.  You’re moving fast and the bed is creaking, she’s screaming and clawing at your arms.  You hurt her, break her, its rough and painful but, “It’s the way you always want it.”  

She yells, “No,” and yells louder, “No no!”  The tears streak her face and she starts blabbering, “This isn’t what I wanted!”  And, “I trusted you.  I loved you-”  But you shake your head, telling her that she used you.  She used you as an escape because you were the new, exciting boy.  She only wanted you for the thrill, she was tired of Inaba and the Amagi Inn and even her prince was beginning to grow tiresome.

How ironic that she’s screaming for that prince to save her now.



Kanji Tatsumi

Had it not been for the detective you would have completely broken his heart with the news.  There was a time when you were all he had, his beloved “senpai” who he could come to about anything.  But now his world revolves around her and not you, senpai, and you’re a little upset.  But you were privileged enough to see Kanji Tatsumi’s softer side – you wonder if he‘s shown Shirogane and the cocky voice in your brain tells you that no, he hasn‘t, because he‘s too busy stammering like a moron around her/him/it.  With you he has revealed intimidate details – you think his mother died?  No wait, it was his father, right? – and was proud to tell you that he started sewing classes.  

“Damn you.  Damn you!”  

You knew he would be pissed.  If anyone were to punch you in the face about this truth it would be him.  It hurts.  You can taste the blood in your mouth and your lip is busted.  You’re lucky that he doesn’t have a chair nearby, his fists clenched and desperate to hit you again.  He’s trying not to cry so he keeps screaming “damn you” over and over again.  You think if you push the right buttons you can break him, get him to forget that boy/girl detective for a moment so he can crumble in front of you.  He starts asking questions, “What was it all for, huh?!”  And, “You sayin’ that we don’t mean nothin’ to ya?!”  

You tell him that he means something to you, of course, what you two had meant everything because he shared so many things with you – and you’re not just talking about his sewing.  He blushes, he doesn’t want to think about it, and you know you have him right where you want him.  You start talking about the times you spent together, the times in his bedroom, surrounded by fabric and sewing needles.  You remember how much his hands shook as he touched you, how he always called you “senpai” even in the bedroom.  You remember how rough his hands felt against your skin, how rushed he always was, how he never quite figured out what to do with a boy despite the flamboyant shadow inside of his head.  You would always reassure him, laugh and say that you were new to it too – god, you’re such a fucking liar.  

He slams you against the wall and starts screaming at you again, “shut up” this and “fuck you” that.  You say his name gently, “Kanji,” and you can see the tears slipping down his face.  You brush one away and you lean forward, kissing his lips the same way you did months ago after you two rushed to the hospital, thinking his Ma was hurt.  

You know, just know, that it would have more of an effect if it weren’t for that goddamn detective entering his heart.  But you’ll settle for him snapping off the button to your pants, cursing your name as he turns you around, undoes his pants, and fucks you against the wall behind Tatsumi Texiles.  



Rise Kujikawa

You have no idea who Rise Kujikawa is.  

Apparently – according to Yosuke – she is “Risette” and you just smile and nod.  You think you may have heard of her but you don’t keep up with celebrities.  

Her shadow is almost as dull as Yosuke’s, candy striped girl on a striper pole whose trying to balance “Rise” and “Risette,” how boring, you think, especially since the previous shadow was so deliciously complicated – Tatsumi is definitely your favorite thus far.  

It’s a little too easy to get her.  She already clings to you and you’re practically forced into a relationship with her – what kind of guy would you be if you left her standing in the middle of the street crying?  The sex is pretty much what you expect from her; loud and with no experience, but she tries hard enough and it’s a little endearing.  Though you admit to yourself that she gave you the best blow job you’ve ever had when she was “drunk” in Port Island.  She doesn’t remember it the next morning and from that day forth you try and get it as good as you did that night.  You never really do but she tries, oh god does she try.  In the bathroom, on the school roof, in your bedroom and in your living room before your uncle comes home.  It’s the thought that counts, really, and she’s at least consistent and always sucks you off until you reach your climax.  

She’s madly in love with you, the type of love that teenagers blog about and end with hearts and kisses.  She giggles and holds onto your arm at all times, always cheers you on when you battle shadows and is the first to ask if you’re o.k when you take a nasty blow.  You want to tell her that she doesn’t need to worry because one of the others will most definitely push you out of the way – cocky bastard, you are – but it’s a little cute how she squeals about you being so cool.  

When you tell her the truth you expect tears.  Your arms are ready to wrap around her and you have some crazy monologue in your head: blah blah blah, I still love you, yadda yadda yadda.  It surprises you when you hear her foot stomp into the ground, her eyes narrowed as she screams at you, “You jerk!  You heartless jerk!”  There are no tears and she isn’t whining or pouting, she’s genuinely pissed off at you and its sadistically exciting.  You two are standing in the middle of the road and you know she’s causing a scene, but to the normal eye she’s simply yelling at her insensitive jerk of a boyfriend.  It’s a little true; just add a large amount of fog and shadows.  

“Rise…”

“Don’t you dare try and be sweet with me, senpai.”  Her voice is cold and you wonder if she’s been taking lessons from the detective – the three underclassmen do hang out quite a bit these days.  “You’re a murderer,” she says, “A cold-hearted murderer who used us all.”  You step closer to her and in seconds her hand is flying across your cheek.  Shit.  You expected Tatsumi to explode into violence but not Kujikawa.  The onlookers are whispering to each other “Risette slaps boy in the middle of the street” would definitely make headlines.  

You’re a little worried, just a little, because this girl’s persona can detect a person’s weaknesses in the middle of battle and you know a battle is coming – all of them versus you, Kujikawa standing in the background as she always does.  Though it would be the first time she isn’t cheering for you and you ask her if she can bring herself to do that.  Her frown falters, her glare diminishing, and you can see her breaking down before your eyes.  You tell her that it will be hard for you, too.  You’re use to her cheering and her concern is what keeps you going in the battlefield.  “Then why are you doing this?!”  She screams, “Why are you… w-why…”  you step close to her again, catching her hand when she tries to slap you again.  You pull her close and she starts screaming against your chest, your shirt becoming soaked with her tears.  

She’s still easy.



Teddie

You had a feeling that the bear already knew.  He knows a lot more than he lets on.  Ever since he appeared in the Velvet Room with you he’s known the truth.  But he stays by your side because you’re his “sensei,” he loves you and you make him feel human in every way possible.  

He makes you feel like a pedophile, just a little.  His face is sinfully beautiful and he’s got the mentality of a child.  There’s a lot of things he doesn’t know, lots of things you have to explain to him but Teddie is a visual learner, needs things to be demonstrated for him to understand them.  

He gives you an ego boost, most definitely.  

He always calls you “sensei,” even during sex, and every small touch, every slight thrust inside of him has him whimpering and moaning and you think to yourself that no boy should feel this good – except maybe Hanamura, but that’s because he’s surprisingly good with his mouth.  And he’s so polite, always asking, “Did you cum too, sensei,” and if you say you didn’t he’ll suck you off like a good little boy until you explode inside of his mouth – he likes how you taste and doesn’t mind if it gets on his cheeks because he loves you, sensei.  You think that the bear is perfect.  He’s so loyal to you in every way.  There’s no heartbreak when he learns the truth, no screaming or crying, he just stays next to you the same way he always has.  

Until the day of your departure. 

You kiss him gently in the middle of the empty food court.  His hair is soft in your hands and his lips taste like sweet cotton candy.  You tell him that there’s no way he can simply be a shadow because his lips don’t taste like darkness – you know what that tastes like, you evil son of a bitch.  He doesn’t speak to you today, he’s thinking about things again and it’s killing the mood.  “You’re going back home,” he says.  You nod your agreement and he looks up at you, “Will you ever tell them the truth?”  You two have discussed this before, several times after he realized that the sensei he had come to care for was the murderer they fought so hard to find.  You never answer that question, wonder if you really need to tell them anything.  You could get away with it, let Adachi take all the blame, “It isn’t that easy, sensei,” he says to you, “They’ll realize that there’s more to this.”  And you know he’s got a point.  If they all got together one more time and looked over every detail piece by piece they may discover the main player, the “conductor,” and they’ll realize that you have spoken to her before.    

“If I tell them then we will be enemies,” you tell him, “Because you will stay with them, right?”  He looks away from you.  He doesn’t want to be away from you, doesn’t want to leave your side. 

But, “I… do not agree with what sensei has done,” he whispers, “I love sensei, but I… can’t follow sensei this time.”  He’s had too much time to think about it, has had too much time to truly fall in love with everyone else – particularly Hanamura, maybe you shouldn’t have let him stay at his place.  

Speak of the devil, there Hanamura is, stepping into the food court in those tight red pants of his – that boy‘s fooling himself if he really doesn‘t think he‘s gay.  He waves to both of you and you get up and walk over to him, “What’s up partner,” he asks, and you just smile.

He’s the first one you decide to tell.



Naoto Shirogane

Naoto Shirogane is deliciously complicated.  A boy with too man curves, a girl without the softness, a mechanical child that wants to be a grown-up.  The challenge lies in understanding all of her forms and you have a limited amount of time to do so.  November has you dealing with that emotional wreck, Namatame.  December is worse because Adachi is a lunatic – but you decide to take out your frustrations with Namatame on him because its his fault that Nanako-chan got involved.  

You focus all of your attention on her, skipping club meetings and practice and the others are wondering if its wise to not pursue Adachi right away.  You remind them that he did say end of the year – which you know translates to Christmas Eve, oh Adachi you sneaky bastard – and you use all the charm you can muster to assure them that you all have plenty of time. 

Once you two start talking she’s waiting for you after school everyday.  And she’s so shy about anything that isn’t case related that you almost feel as perverted and bastardly as you do when you talk to the bear, but its much more fun to tease her because she understands the things you hint at.  When you get her in bed she’s on her hands and knees and telling you to do it in the “boy/boy” way, senpai.  You’re speechless, to say the least, and you try to get her on her back and she refuses.  It’s irritating and you want to tell her that she’s a girl, goddamnit, and if you want to fuck a boy then you’d be shoving Hanamura into an empty bathroom stall.  But she insists, even after you tell her that it will hurt, and soon you’re thrusting into her ass, the bindings still wrapped around her chest as she pretends to be a boy and you pretend to be interested.    

Chistmas Eve comes along and she calls you.  You’re not quite sure why you say yes – you’re about ready to give up on her/him/it altogether – but when she stands in your bedroom in a school girl’s uniform you’re pants immediately become uncomfortable.  The weeks of fake-boy sex have paid off and soon you have her in your lap, squirming and blushing as you fuck her with the skirt on.  God.  It has never felt this good with a girl and thank goodness your house is empty right now because her screams are too much of a turn-on to try and keep quiet.  She lays in your bed afterwards, panting, her skirt bunched around her hips and most definitely inviting you to take her again.  You don‘t give her any time to recover.  Your hands are aggressively attacking her breasts – they feel wonderful and you envy Rise for being the first to grope them in the hot springs – and you’re sliding inside of her again.  And again.  Again again again until she passes out in your bed.

And this is how your relationship works.  You constantly want her, it seems, because you’re the only one who gets to see her as a girl – you’re sure Tatsumi gets off on her trying to be a dude and she’s comfortable with that.  But you always take the bindings off, always squeeze her breasts with your hands and comment on how soft they are, how good it feels to be inside of her – in the boy/girl way, you put emphasize on the “girl” part.   

She’s the last one you tell, on the school roof after she’s told you that she’ll miss you, yadda yadda girly sap – you have the nerve to complain when you’re the one who’s pulled the girl out of her.  

In seconds there’s a gun at your head.  Shit, perhaps she isn’t so girly after all.  

“I knew it,” she whispers, “I knew it, I just knew it.”  You look for a sign of her weakening.  Nothing.  There’s no tears, not a single crack in her voice, and her aim is steady and clearly focused on your forehead.  Deep down she’s probably thought of you as a jerk since you only seem to really want her if she’s in a skirt – goddamn Tatsumi and his lame acceptance of her “the way she is,” whatever.  Let the sensitive thug have his wannabe man.     

However, there’s still the problem of the gun at your head.  Elegant words and well placed flirting won’t get you out of this one so you appeal to her in the only way you can.  

“Don’t you want to know whose really behind this?”  

And now her hand shakes.  



Izanami

If someone would’ve told you in the beginning that the frickin’ gas station attendant was a rotted corpse of a goddess you probably would‘ve never shook her hand – you think.  You wonder if this is all of her fault, if a simple handshake really morphed your way of thinking or if you’ve always been a twisted fucker whose enjoyed seeing bodies twisted around TV antennas.  You really can’t figure it out and it disturbs you, a little, but nevertheless here you are in her arms, the woman in white with the pale skin and the creepy smile.  Her hands are cold against your skin and you have a feeling that this is what death feels like, an emotionless void that makes your heart sink into the pit of your stomach.  

She’s whispering to you, calling you “Izanagi” and you vaguely remember that very first persona you summoned – you’ve had so many at this point that its hard to go back to the first.  You should probably be concerned that she’s calling you a completely different name but you can’t quite focus.  She’s breathing against your neck and it leaves goose bumps over your flesh.  Your stomach’s churning and there’s a feeling of impending doom that’s starting to make you tremble against her.  She’s still whispering, something about “Izanagi” and “long lost love” and “I told you I would find you” and you’re suddenly remember something about a legend and-

Shit.

She’s smirking and you can feel her skin deteriorating, her hair turning black like shadows as she holds you tighter.  You should’ve known that she had some ulterior motive behind her “I’m only doing what humans want” bullshit.  Her arms feel like tree branches and it hurts to be this close to her.  

“Senpai!”  

She looks up and frowns, letting you go as your friends – are they really still your friends? – rush to the scene.  She laughs, growing impossibly large as she boasts about it being too late for you.  The floor feels cold underneath your back and you can feel the shadows pulling you in, wrapping around your arms and legs.  

“No!”

You’re not quite sure who it is that screams but soon you’re being shoved out the way.  You slide across the floor and look up in time to see someone’s hand sinking into the shadows.  You can’t recognize whose hand it is – do you even really care? – and soon they’re gone, Izanami staring and yelling in anger at her failed attempt to finish you off.  

“It’s impossible,” you say to her, and you can feel that very first persona re-appearing inside of your heart, “There’s always going to be someone to push me out of the way,” because as much as they hate you they – unfortunately for them – love you even more.  

Izanami tries to attack you again but there’s six more sacrifices that are standing right behind you.  You can already hear one of them screaming your name, running in to save you.